It vexes me. I'm deeply vexed.
Ben has this thing. Usually when he's tired, hungry, anxious or breathing…he will ask for something, you give it and then he cries for it as if you are withholding it.
It's like a john crying through sex with a hooker. I don't get it.
Just a few minutes ago he cried woefully to his father for "DVDEEEEEEEE!" to which my Old Man said--"we're already WATCHING dvds dude. Look at the TV!"
Frankly, its making me a little batty.
I realize, it's prolly just some independence thing or what-have-you that he can't really explain at the moment, and in a few months we'll all be laughing about it--mostly because I refilled my xanax prescription. But until then, I'm gonna lose it if I have to hear that whine again.
Now if you'll excuse me, the little man is in tears over a peanut butter sandwich sitting right in front of him. And my glass is empty.
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